"Off the books?"
"Yes."
Katya nodded. Then that was why Sami hadn't found it yet. Small, out of the way. He was looking for large and ostentatious, believing that all merchants worked like that. "Then that is where we will find his ring—and, eventually, Qasim Sami himself." She stood and handed the scrolls back to him. "Keep these—they will serve you well in the future should any of Sami's family request retribution. They will show his guilt."
He stood after returning the scrolls to his robes. Slipping his own signet ring off his finger, he handed it to her and said, “Show this at the Scribe House; they will give you whatever you need.” Then, after a moment, he added, "We have not yet discussed your fee, my Lady.”
She nodded. “Are you acquainted with the customary rates?”
He shook his head. “I have never needed to know them, nor did I bother to research them ahead of this meeting. Jona has vouched for you, and that’s good enough for me.” He looked at her, his gaze steady. “And you know that I will pay whatever you ask.”
That was true. He would, and she knew it. She also knew she would not take advantage of his grief. “This is a private contract, not Guild sanctioned, so Guild rates don’t apply. But I don’t like this man. He lied to me and tried to deceive me. And although I only knew Edibe briefly, I like what I saw in her. I will deal with this man. I will find his ring and I will learn the truth. And when it’s done, you continue to support the Scribe House. Agreed?”
He blinked, obviously surprised, and then nodded his agreement. “I will await his death with anticipation." With that, he left the room.
Katya remained where she was for a few more minutes before she too exited, and began her examination of the Scribe House outside the city walls.
* * *
This particular Scribe House was owned by an elderly man named Sian. He was withered and wizened, and as soon as he saw Marzug’s ring on her hand he gave her a deep bow.
"Not much time," he said as he motioned for her to follow him. The walls were covered by floor to ceiling wooden shelves, each built with pockets and marked with wooden tiles with the alphabet, some with numbers, and others with dates. Scrolls of different colors, to mark age, and sizes were stuffed in all of the openings. None were empty. And then there were the books. Old books, new books, half-completed books, in all sorts of covers. Several desks sat around with manuscripts in various stages. Some sketched, some inked.
She paused in her scan of the shop, her gaze lingering on the half-finished pieces. Katya’s trained eye had caught the soft blue, green, and white glow of magic contained within the lettering. She neared one of the books and stared at it, unable to discern what type of magic it was—or would be.
“Ah—you can see the basic structures?” Sian said as he returned to her. The little man had moved on ahead and turned when he realized Katya had not followed.
She nodded. “Basic for what?”
Sian held up a finger. “Ah…that is for the user to complete. Now—for what you’re looking for—you’ll have to use a bit deeper magic.”
She turned her gaze on him. “Deeper magic?”
“When Edibe brought the ring to me, she could see the magic woven around it—as could I. But the ring isn’t simply a foci—or a means of storage. The magic surrounding this item,” his expression fell, “is dark, dear Lady. Very dark magic indeed.”
He turned and she followed. He approached a shelf in the middle of the House and raised his hand before a tall wall of shelves, mottled with books of all sizes and colors. A green book glowed bright red suddenly, on a shelf above her head. Sian turned and pointed. “There. But know that it is currently hidden behind a multitude of cloaking spells. Once you remove it, the ring will be exposed, drawing any who seek it directly here.”
“Good.” Katya reached up to touch the book, and immediately pulled her hand from it. “It’s—cold.”
“Yes, yes. But it will not burn.”
With a glare at him, she reached up again and took the book down. There were no markings on the outside, only the worn green canvas covering stretched over the pressed wood. Holding the book in her hands was like holding a solid block of ice. She hurriedly moved to an empty table and set the book down. It immediately sprang open to the center and revealed a page with a large dark box inked all the way around the page’s edge.
“What…” she began when she looked at the box. From one instant to the next the box moved from a flat image to something with depth, and Katya was certain that, if she chose, she could slip her hand into that abyss.
“Please,” Sian nodded to her. “The ring is in there.”
“You stick your hand inside.”
“I cannot,” he said. “It’s keyed to her master. The ring you wear will allow you to retrieve what she has hidden.”
Katya plunged her hand in and almost immediately her fingers touched something both warm and, paradoxically, bitterly cold. Metal. It pulsed against her fingers and she grabbed it and pulled it out.
In her palm lay an average signet ring with an S carved on one side. But what caught Katya’s attention was the red stone set under the S, which seemed to glow. The entire ring pulsed much like a heart beat that traveled up her arm. She could feel, almost hear, a cry for help and if she looked long enough into the stone—
Katya stepped back and dropped the ring. It hit the table beside the book with a heavy thunk.
“You have seen him.”
She stared at the ring—the feel and sound of the heartbeat and the cry echoing in her mind. “Him?”
“Within the ring. It is not a Djiin, nor is it a simple vessel for Death energy, my Lady,” he shook his head. “Dark magic. And Edibe only wanted the soul trapped within released.”
“Soul? Within?” she looked at him. “But that’s not possible.”
“Ah—you see and you feel, you hear and you know, but you refuse to believe.” He looked to the door behind Katya. “But now that it is free of the book, he will sense it. It will call to him, and he will come. As you wanted.”
Katya spun around and looked around the empty House. She did not spook often—or easily. But at that moment she was unnerved. When she saw nothing she looked back to Sian. “You mean this ring—will call to Akim?”
“Yes. Magic such as this—often requires a bit of the wielder’s own soul.” He looked sad. “This man—he will come. I go now.” He paused first, and with the edge of his robe’s sleeve, picked up the ring and dropped it back inside the dark page. The book slammed itself shut.
Katya swallowed. She wielded magic, yes. Used it often when she needed it in her profession, but this…
Sian handed her the book. “Return it to its place. The cloaking spells are broken now. He will come, and he will find it.” And with that, he turned and disappeared through a door in the back. Katya’s earlier study of the House told her he’d stepped into the back office.
She replaced the book and was happy to be rid of it. It froze her fingers. But was it the book itself? Or the package it carried?
* * *
He came, just as Sian said he would.
Katya had positioned herself in the shadows near the back. She heard him come in through the window, watched him as he slid to the floor and stumbled over onto his back. He righted himself and held up his hand. It glowed blue in the darkness, and as expected, the book returned the glow.
Akim moved directly toward it and then reached up to grab it.
She chose that moment to strike, and threw the knife cleanly. It flew through the air right and true and the blade lodged inside the soft flesh of Akim’s back, directly into his backbone, severing him from his body. He crumpled and cried out. His limbs flopped and his body flailed as it tried to reconnect.
Katya emerged from the shadows and walked toward him. She looked down at him and he caught sight of her. While waiting for him to appear, she had shifted back to the guise she wore when she first met with him and his eyes widened when he saw. “Y
ou…”
She nodded slowly. “There is no mercy, Qasim Sami. But I would like to know why.”
He half smiled at her as his body ceased moving and the light in his eyes faded. “Aranias needs…”
But that was all he said as he died.
Katya bent down and retrieved her knife, wiping it on the sleeve of Akim’s robe. Sian appeared again and stood behind her. “Take the book. I do not want the magic here any longer. It taints everything.”
She nodded absently as she reached up and retrieved it. Again there was the intense cold and she wrapped it within her leather coat. Katya paused before she turned to the door, her gaze resting on the body. “Sian—”
“It will be handled. The one vandalizing the Scribe Houses was caught and dealt with.” He bowed to her.
No one need ever know Akim was assassinated.
Katya gave him a half smile and nodded as she turned and left the House of Sian.
* * *
“Aranias,” Meles said as she stared at the ring on her table. “I know of only one mention of that name within magic circles. And it’s not a pleasant one, Lady Kat.”
Two days passed before Katya could contact Meles and arrange a meeting between she and the Lord Marzug. But Katya had wanted a private one on one with her magical friend first. Meles was the proprietor of Katya’s favorite magic shop. According to Katya, there wasn’t a better place to find spells, potions, amulets, or other magical wares, including the finest raw ingredients for making her own items.
Meles herself was tall, ethereal, and beautiful. Katya always sensed an agelessness about her, reflected in the way she carried herself. Though she claimed to be in her late twenties, Katya somehow thought of her as older. Meles’ long dark hair and emerald eyes told customers of her quiet power, and blinded many a foolish man with her beauty.
They sat inside the locked shop as the moon rose toward midnight. Marzug would arrive then, and Meles had promised she would release the soul of Joachim.
“So….his soul really is inside this ring?” Katya stared at Meles and watched her face.
“Yes,” Meles said. Her expression was tragic. “This ring uses a type of darker magic—something that goes beyond Death Magic—and toys along the path of the Soul Eaters.”
“There is no such thing.”
“Ah, Lady Kat,” a smile pulled at the corner of Meles’ lips. “You have seen so much in this world and yet you still do not believe these things exist.”
“Sian said something like that. And no, I don’t.”
“But what of Tanis?”
Katya gave a growl low in her throat. “Tanis is no Soul Eater. Though I know in my heart she wields Death Magic to keep herself young and powerful.”
Meles crossed her arms over her chest and leaned her elbows on the table. “Dear Lady—there has never been a shred of evidence that says Tanis practices Death Magic.”
“I know.”
“You know because your heart tells you so. And yet if you touch this ring, if you look into the stone, and you see the eyes of Joachim held within—you still do not believe.”
“I believe…” she began as she looked at the ring. She felt as if it were mocking her. The fact Akim was dead—was no loss. But that his ring remained made her ill. “I believe there are things I don’t understand. I would be a fool to pretend I do.”
“This magic,” Meles nodded at the ring, “requires something from the creator. It is used as a vessel for souls, and as such, the magic needed in order to draw the dying soul from the body requires its own price.”
Katya shook her head. “You’ve gone round in circles on this. Are you saying…that Akim placed a bit of his own soul inside of this ring—to lure other souls to it?”
“Yes.” Meles said. “Aranais is the name of a long forgotten goddess. It was said she would grant anyone immortality if they gave her a hundred untouched souls. Now, there is no clarification of what ‘untouched’ would mean. Nor is there any understanding of what method these souls should be delivered. The followers of Aranais created the vessels, as you see this one, in order to trap the souls for her—without the mess and fuss of actually kidnapping people and sacrificing them upon her altar.”
Katya kept her face passive. “Convenient. And the illness that destroyed Joachim’s body?”
“All part of the practice of pushing the soul to its ultimate death. The torture within, the pain, all part of the lesser Death Magic. Taking of the energy at death. But going one step further.”
Katya sensed a presence and stood. “Marzug is here. You can release the soul?”
Meles nodded. “Yes. I will do this because this is wrong. But be warned, Lady Kat—Akim had friends. He’s been doing this a long time. This ring had many impressions within it, residual essence of other souls. There is no way to know how many souls he’d already brought to the altar of Aranais. Nor do we know if those souls have been consumed by the representation of Aranais or are still contained in some other vessel somewhere.”
A thought occurred to Katya then, and it did not sit well with her. “Will this representation be expecting more souls?”
Meles shrugged. She stood and moved to the door as Marzug rapped on the outside. “Just know, Lady Kat—you touched the well with a soul inside, and he used that to find the ring in the house. Sian was not stupid—he did not want to touch the ring. It knows you now.” She glanced at it. “I will not touch it either.”
And she had not, that much was true. She’d insisted that Katya reach into the abyss and retrieve it.
Katya melted into the shadows of the shop and took up a vantage point to watch. Meles knew she was there, but Marzug would not.
Meles greeted the sad looking man and guided him to her table. Beside the ring she’d gathered items representing the four elements; a bowl of earth, a red candle, a small ball billowing incense, and a chalice of water. She asked Marzug not to touch the ring directly, but to pick it up with his gloves.
He did as she asked, and Katya felt a slight tingling along her spine
“My Lord, roll the ring within the earth.”
He did as she asked.
“Pass the ring through the incense.”
Again, he did as she asked without question.
“Pass the ring through the flame.”
Again, without question.
Katya held her breath as Meles finally moved and took up the silver chalice of water, water gathered from the rain buckets she kept in the back. “Now, hold the love of your son within your heart, and that of Edibe as well, and drop the ring into the water.”
The chalice glowed a brilliant blue even before Marzug dropped the ring inside. A crackle in the air around them and thunder in the distance. The air smelled crisp and Katya was sure she could see the smallest wisps of smoke.
Once the ring plunged in, the shop shook and the chalice lit up bright with a blinding light.
Katya winced but kept her eyes focused on the chalice. She had to see—she had to!
And there…just visible in the light…was the younger image of Lord Marzug. His son, Joachim. His expression looked relieved and he reached out to his father. Marzug saw him as well and the two tried to embrace.
And then it was gone. The shop dark. The chalice nothing more than a thing of silver.
Joachim was gone.
Katya heard a sobbing noise, low at first, and realized it was Marzug. Meles was there, her arm over his shoulder.
“Thank you, my Lady…thank you…I will give you anything you wish…”
But Meles said nothing, giving comfort to a grieving man.
Katya stepped away and moved through the back door to where the barrels caught the infrequent rain. She stopped in the middle of the well tended courtyard, where Meles and she often drank teas or worked on spells. With a sigh she looked up at the waxing moon.
Had that been a soul? Truly? Were there such things like this? Magics so dark they could manipulate a man’s life even after death? The idea frig
htened her—more than she would ever admit. The very fact she didn’t know how many lives Akim had taken unnerved her as well. She knew the ring was destroyed—Meles had seen to that with the soul’s release.
But the fact others were out there…
Tanis came to mind again, and the ever standing contract on her life. No one had ever succeeded in fulfilling it. Did she know about Death Eaters? Were the rumors true that she used Death Magic to keep herself so young?
Did she know about Aranais? Or even where these souls may be?
Again Katya thought of the contract. And again she shook her head. No. She wasn’t ready yet. But when the time came, she intended on knowing more.
Much more.
About Death Magic.
About Soul Eaters.
And about Aranais.
Castle of Whispers
By Richard Lee Byers
Impatience gnawed at Othman. In times past, he might have paced around the study, or taken up his scimitar and practiced cuts and parries, but now an old man’s inertia held him in the well-padded leather chair beside the warm, crackling fire in the hearth.
He did jerk around, though, at the sound of the casement clicking open. Then he froze at the sight of the woman slipping through. The hair pinned up on the back of her head was as black as her tunic and leggings, and even the gloom of the benighted chamber couldn’t obscure the vivid blue of her eyes.
“You!” Othman said.
“Hello,” Katya replied. “I was happy to deal with your intermediary at the start of our contract. But it seemed more sensible to report directly to my employer at the end of it.”
* * *
Katya studied the impostor across the table with a certain appreciation. Someone had employed considerable skill to pad his cheeks and so alter the shape of his face, cover the tattoo on his hand with pigment, and dress him in the striped flowing robes of a wealthy merchant.
“My name is Misbah,” he said, a trace of tension in his voice. “I trade in Wenshi.”
“So I was told,” Katya replied.
“I speak for several of my fellow merchants, not just myself. We’re tired of the Red Tigers extorting coin from us, then robbing us anyway when the mood takes them. And we understand you killed Intisar a few years back.”
The Taste of Waterfruit and Other Stories (Story Portals) Page 5